Prologue
There was something comforting about the smell of smoke. It wove through Louis Bordeaux’s memories, connecting them all like a delicate thread. The London streets where he had grown up. The tiny, dirty café in Paris. His wife’s own special perfume. It was a scent he would never tire of.
Grasping the well-worn handle, Louis pulled open the door to the caravan. The three floating steps creaked under his weight as he stepped inside. The air hung thick with the scent of cinnamon, pepper, and hot wax. Picking his way around the pillows that had fallen to the floor, a loose shoe, and a rack of costumes askew, Louis approached the beaded curtain that encircled a corner of the caravan, toward the driver’s seat.
“Écoutez-moi, anciens. Pouvez-vous sentir la chaleur? Pouvez-vous voir la flamme? Je vous ai donné du sang et j’ai pris votre pouvoir.”
Bijou’s voice floated through the heavy air like a melody. The strings of faintly pink crystalline beads tinkled softly as Louis parted the curtain with a hand. His wife knelt in front of a low table, surrounded by lit candles, speaking fervently in French. The objects she prayed to were familiar to Louis. A leather-bound book, a heart sculpted from opal, and a tied bundle of herbs, burning at one end. Thin tendrils of smoke spiraled into the air.
Bijou waved her hands over the torch, fanning the embers and pulling more smoke up toward the ceiling. As she moved, her glossy red curls twisted and swayed, draped across her bare back.
He hated to disturb her like this. Bijou looked just as beautiful when she prayed as when she sang, but they were unfortunately out of time. “Bijou, my jewel,” Louis said, “are you just about finished? It’s time we made our exit.”
“Oui, mon ange.” Bijou took a deep breath and extinguished the candles around the table. With a white cloth, she smothered the smoking torch.
“Lovely, lovely,” said Louis. He paused, brushing his hand down the front of his waistcoat. “You’re certain of our next move? Out west?”
Bijou continued carefully stowing away the artifacts. “Oui,” she answered calmly. “The cities grow bigger, but the people grow louder. People talk. And we have too many secrets. After tonight, we cannot stay in Tennessee. We cannot even stay in the east.”
A part of Louis wasn’t sure about this move. It was so far, and would be very different from what they’d known. He had always thought bustling cities were more beneficial for their plans, and offered them the most opportunities. Frankly, he was the most comfortable in a populous metropolis. Surely, there had to be some place suitable for their work that was closer than the unsettled frontier. However, the order had come from the higher authorities, as did all their destinations, and Bijou didn’t seem troubled. If this was what they had to do, then he would see it done. He always did.
Louis knelt behind his wife and pressed his cheek against the curve of her neck and shoulder. “I understand,” he said. “We’ll have some fun with it. It will be just like the old days. You and I and nothing ahead of us but miles and miles. Simple times, when we were just two fools in love.”
Bijou leaned back against him. “Louis, we are still fools.”
“Then you are the best mistake I ever made.” He sank a warm kiss into her cheek.
She turned, and their lips met. Louis welcomed her heat and breathed deeply of her smoky, spicy scent that gave him more life than simple air ever could.
“Right then,” he said when they broke apart. “Let us be off.”
Louis exited the caravan, and walked around to the opposite side, hoisting himself into the driver’s seat and gathering the reins. He took one last look at the city they were leaving behind. The city they would never return to. The city that wouldn’t last much longer.
No stars could pierce the shroud of smoke that hung in the sky. The sounds of screams and panic rolled in from a distance. A timber cracked. Something inside one of the buildings had collapsed, a staircase maybe. Flames erupted from top-story windows. Flames licked the edges of doors. Flames spilled into the streets.
Beautiful, beautiful flames.
